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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26682976">Switched and Baited</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaelumLapis/pseuds/CaelumLapis'>CaelumLapis</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Smallville</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:21:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,715</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26682976</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaelumLapis/pseuds/CaelumLapis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark peeked out from behind his hand and looked himself over with a growing sense of horror.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Switched and Baited</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer is, I don’t own them, not even a little.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clark stared miserably at the floor-length mirror in Lex's closet, and his palm connected to his face with a satisfying thwack and a loud tearing sound from his shoulder. This was horrible in every sense of the word. He still wasn’t exactly sure how Lex had managed to talk him into this, but he was never, ever leaving this closet. Ever.</p>
<p>His brain helpfully supplied that Clark was currently wearing his best friend’s clothes, that he’d voluntarily submitted to this, and that the pants were becoming uncomfortably tighter at the idea of Lex wearing <em>his</em> clothes. Leaving the closet in a literal or figurative sense of the phrase was a moot point, all things considered. His mind went further to remind him that using platitudes in arguments with Lex was a really bad idea. Clark mentally crossed all variations of walking a mile in another man’s shoes off the list of helpful Jonathan Kentisms, because it hadn't been helpful. At all. And once he’d said it, it had become walking a mile in another man’s shoes <em>and</em> his pants. It now involving no walking, but switching clothes with Lex in some strange effort to demonstrate mutual understanding. Clark had gotten very lost and distracted after Lex suggested that one could not experience another man’s point of view properly unless wearing said man’s pants. This made him genuinely curious about how Lex’s business meetings in Metropolis were conducted.</p>
<p>Clark peeked out from behind his hand and looked himself over with a growing sense of horror. Lex’s crisp, tailored black pants were no longer looking crisp or even tailored. The fabric fit him like a poorly designed surrogate skin. It banded tightly around his calves and thighs, was bunching up in strange folds around his hips, and making far too intimate an acquaintance with the cleft of his ass. Not to mention that these particular pants were not at all helpful when it came to hiding badly timed erections. Clark genuinely missed his conspiratorial jeans as an ally in that endeavor. He’d just have to set any Ty Nant bottle within fifty feet of Lex on fire. Along with the pool cues, the sculptures behind his desk, and any pens within reaching distance. Clark shut down that train of thought viciously and forced himself to think about cows until his traitorous organ wilted into submission. The pants ended a good two inches above his ankles and his legs stuck out beneath them, adding insult to injury.</p>
<p>The lavender shirt was visibly strained at his shoulders and elbows. Clark caught a good inch of his skin peeking out from that ruptured shoulder seam and winced. The buttons barely held it together along his chest, pouches of fabric pulling away between them in a strange and somewhat abstract window effect. The black jacket rested over the top of a chair near him, and Clark was in no way brave enough to try that. He’d also abandoned the idea of shoes and socks. Bending over at this point to put them on would destroy Lex’s pants and the remaining shreds of Clark’s dignity. The very few remaining shreds.</p>
<p>A knock at the door vaporized them with ruthless efficiency and he heard Lex ask, “Clark?”</p>
<p>“Uh,” Clark stalled, glaring at the mirror, “yeah?”</p>
<p>“Ready?” Shifting his glare to the door, Clark could have sworn he heard muffled snickering.</p>
<p>“No! Uh. I mean, Lex? Is the tie absolutely necessary?” Clark desperately pondered melting the closet's doorknob, and only the realization through a quick X-ray that Lex was holding said doorknob prevented him from doing so.</p>
<p>“Clark, you can forgo the tie.” Lex was definitely laughing.</p>
<p>“And the coat?” Clark wasn’t begging, not at all. He was simply making a suggestion.</p>
<p>“You may omit the coat as well, Clark,” Lex responded primly. Then he opened the door suddenly and not even super-speed could save Clark. Blue eyes widening, Lex gaped at him for a second before he clapped a hand over his mouth and his shoulders began shaking. Clark made a face and folded his arms over his chest. This prompted his other shoulder to make yet another terrible ripping noise, which made Lex laugh harder.</p>
<p>Dignity now dead and gone, Clark looked Lex over. His faded jeans hung low on Lex’s hips, while his red plaid shirt fit Lex as well as a circus tent. Yet somehow, he managed to look not anywhere near as dorky as Clark felt. Leaning back against the doorframe, Lex laughed audibly behind his hand. Clark grumbled at him and took a cautious step toward the door. He was rewarded with the sound of defeated seams and the light, pleasant sensation of air rushing to greet his previously smothered crotch. He paled as both hands flew to cover the breach, and the shoulders of the shirt ripped loudly and peeled away from his skin in unison.</p>
<p>Now breathless from chortling, Lex managed to wheeze, “you look… as if you’ve… been attacked… by a vengeful tailor!”</p>
<p>Clark sighed, and the pants tore a bit more. So breathing was a bad idea in this situation, good to know. “I probably will be after your tailor sees what I’ve done.” Lex roared again with mirth, then looked away from Clark. He snickered into the doorframe while he struggled to compose himself.</p>
<p>Remaining absolutely still, Clark resisted the urge to address a sudden, insistent itch between his shoulder blades. “So uh.” He tried for conversational and settled for mischievous, “now that you’ve gotten into my pants, do you understand me better?”</p>
<p>Lex blinked and stifled another snicker, his voice silky. “Possibly.”</p>
<p>He grinned at Clark and circled him slowly, holding up the jeans with one hand while trailing the fingers his other across Clark’s shoulders. “And now that you are almost out of my pants,” He snickered again, “do you understand <em>me</em> better?”</p>
<p>Backing away involuntarily, the pants gave up on Clark and one of the seams binding the fabric together tautly against his hip gave way with a spectacular tearing sound. He stepped back again, the pants sliding gracelessly down his legs in defeat. Clark's hands remained firmly over his crotch, the shirt still fighting the good fight to keep him partially covered.</p>
<p>Lex arched a brow. “Well, that question is answered.”</p>
<p>Clark blinked. “What question?”</p>
<p>“Nothing at all is your underwear of choice.” Lex gave him a predatory grin.</p>
<p>“I uh… the pants wouldn’t fit... and um.” This conversation was taking a turn that was making life difficult for Clark's hands.</p>
<p>Advancing toward him slowly, Lex looked him over. “Yes, I imagine that this was a very practical decision.” He tapped his fingers lightly against Clark’s hands, sending shockwaves up his spine. Clark hitched a breath and Lex’s face was abruptly much closer to his, their lips almost touching.</p>
<p>“Now that you are out of my pants, it would be wise to get back into your own.” Lex’s eyes darkened, his voice dropping an octave.</p>
<p>He had a vague idea of what Lex was saying, behind the sound of blood rushing through his ears. Clark leaned in the rest of the way and kissed him, hard and rough and without hope of finesse. He grabbed the waistband of his now favorite pair of jeans and pulled Lex closer, grinding against him. Lex purred a low growl at him and kissed back fiercely, tongues and teeth colliding together in urgent chaos. They tumbled into a rack of shirts, yanking them down in a flurry of hangers and expensive fabric. Lex’s hands were everywhere, and Clark grabbed him and held on because it was the only sane thing left to do. He felt the shirt rip away from him completely and then Lex was nipping at his throat, just below his earlobe and Clark’s mind shut down. He stroked his fingers over the swell of Lex’s ass, heady from touching him. He wanted everything he'd been imagining as he nudged the jeans out of the way, pushing against Lex, his breathing frantic and their friction dizzying.</p>
<p>Clark bit into Lex’s shoulder and swirled his tongue over the skin he could find. He ripped the plaid shirt away in frustration and Lex made a strangled groan. His fingernails raked against one of Clark’s nipples and splayed over his stomach, sliding down with agonizing slowness. Clark whined in his throat and pushed his face against Lex’s, green eyes locking with blue ones as Lex’s fingers curled around his cock and squeezed, Clark thrusting into Lex's hand with a startled cry. Lex kissed him and sucked at his lower lip, his hand pumping with a steady rhythm that Clark desperately tried to counter, whimpering pleas for more. Lex broke the kiss and his lips teased lightly over the shell of Clark’s ear, saying amazingly filthy things that he wanted to do to Clark between panting moans and growls. Clark’s eyes squeezed closed and his spine stiffened as he clung to Lex, flares of color bursting into the darkness behind his eyelids, his head falling back as he cried out, rutting feverishly into Lex.</p>
<p>Struggling to breathe, Clark glided his hand down Lex’s abdomen and caressed his fingers against Lex's cock through the jeans. Lex swore softly into his ear and pressed encouragingly into the touch. Clark shoved the jeans down, unbuttoning and unzipping them as he went, mentally wincing as the zipper tore. He felt Lex grin against his ear and murmur something that made the blood rush to Clark’s face, among other places that shouldn't be getting hard again that fast. Clark fisted his hand around Lex and stroked him, Lex’s growls becoming panting whimpers mixed with breathless commands of faster and harder as he fucked Clark’s hand. Clark nuzzled against his throat and bit down, feeling a spasm jolt through Lex as he shuddered, gasping a choked groan near Clark’s ear.</p>
<p>For a few minutes, they sprawled amid a tangle of tumbled shirts, a few hangers, and partially torn clothing, panting and grinning at each other. Then Lex sat up and surveyed the damage with a lazy smirk. “I’d say my tailor is definitely going to be homicidal now, Clark.”</p>
<p>Clark giggled and reclined, pillowing his head on his arms and studying Lex with sleepy eyes, “yeah.” He grinned playfully, “mine too.”</p>
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